My Darlin' Rosaline
by reddwarfaddict
Summary: In the 1800's wild west, Rosaline Tyler and her mother Jacquetta are indebted to the bankers. But after Rosaline aids a mortally wounded cowboy by the name of John Smith, will she take the choice to ride into the sunset forever? DoctorWhump.
1. John, Rosaline And Jacquetta

**A/N: **Disclaimer: I don't own, though I think David Tennant in a cowboy outfit would be a turn on.

This has been in my head a while, it's short like Lector Manor but very, _very _different. You can draw your own conclusions at the end about what's really happening. Don't really know what came over me :D

The Western lingo should be pretty easy to understand, but here's some reference if you can't figure it out:

**Fetch** - Give  
**Calaboose** - Jail  
**Dinero** - Cash  
**Don't care a continental** - Don't give a damn  
**Pay through your nose** - To over-pay, pay consequences  
**Four-flusher** - A cheat, swindler, liar  
**Mom/ma** - American-English for mum, if you didn't know :P

It's also probably wrong. But hey. At least I can try :)

* * *

Chapter 1 - John, Rosaline And Jacquetta

"Stop, Smith!"

John stopped immediately in his canter at the sound of the voice, turning his white steed back to face his challengers and instantly recognising the Lakeland Town Sheriff and four comrades, all mounted and looking ready for business.

"What can I do you for kind sir?" he asked with a broad, charismatic smile, tilting his cowboy hat back. "What a mighty fine day we're havin'!"

The Sheriff was not in the mood for small talk. Within an instant he had whipped out his pistol from its holster and pointed it straight at John's head.

"Kind sir, if you'd care to fetch me the cash you stole, nothin' more shall be said and you'll be free to leave. I'm pretty sure you don't wanna spend ya pretty years locked in calaboose – jail – now, do ya?"

John raised his eyebrows at the man, pausing slightly as he clicked his tongue in contemplation.

"Well Sheriff," he finally started, "for a start, the dinero, the cash, it weren't even yours. Now, I'm a kinda man that amounts to a Martyr and I don't believe in you so called 'men of authority' and your unfair scheme of justice. If you wanna throw me in calaboose then frankly sir, I don't care a continental."

The Sheriff seemed astounded by his retort, pointedly cocking back the hammer with a satisfactory chain of clicks.

"Then you're gonna pay through your nose."

John raised a hand to his nose, stroking it affectionately. "Oh but Sheriff sir, this nose has been with me my entire life."

"I ain't foolin', hand me the dinero!" he shouted, jerking the gun forward, silently warning him for the last time.

"Don't get your back up Sheriff." He grinned, subtly turning his horse back around in order to skedaddle. "You're a four-flusher, a cheat, you took the money from them and it weren't even fair."

"Nothing's fair, Smith." He smiled back at John, bearing all three of his yellow teeth. "I hope you've already got your gravestone."

He pulled the trigger.

* * *

"Rosaline darlin', we ain't gonna afford this house no more," Jacquetta Tyler told her only daughter at 5:55am, scanning the print of a final demand on a piece of paper for seven hundred dollars lying on the table. "We can't afford no food, never mind no loan payment." 

"But momma," Rosaline protested as she hastily bunched back her long blonde hair in a tight bun ready for work that day. "I got us five hundred dollars, ain't they willin' to wait?"

She shook her head in a negative, gesturing redundantly at the paper infront of her. "It says they'll be 'ere to collect in two days, darlin', we ain't got the money."

"I'll find us the money momma," Rosaline insisted, pulling on her coat in preparation for the trek outside. "Even if it means offerin' ma services to the kindly men folk for a fee."

"Ain't no daughter of mine gonna sell herself," Jacquetta insisted, her 'motherly tone' instantly surfacing. "Ever since your dadda died we ain't got nothin' left honey – you can keep prayin' for a miracle but God ain't gonna smile on us sweetie."

She crossed the room to the doorway, pulling it open to go outside. "I can't believe in a miracle momma, but I can in coincidence." She smiled, stepping out into the bright dawn of sunshine to try and find some work for that day to reverse their ill fortune.

Jacquetta sighed a heavy sigh as if the entire world was resting on her shoulders, turning back around to the sink to wash up.

* * *

John was only just about supporting himself into sitting position as he clutched desperately at his chest, blood seeping out from between his fingers. Arthur, his white mount trotted obediently into the currently deserted town street, trying not to put his rider in too much distress. 

Luckily the Sheriff had a bad aim – an _extremely _bad aim – and had instead of hitting him in the head he had shot him in the chest…which, when thought about, probably wasn't that much better. He had no way of telling exactly how much damage the bullet had done, the pain was too great to even move his head more than an inch.

"Are you alright, sir?"

John's breathing was stinted and desperate, his vision too blurred to see the one person standing infront of him, calling out in concern. He remained silent and still as Arthur came to a halt, stopped by the bystander.

"Sir?"

He was barely clinging onto consciousness as the call came again, and he felt two hands pressing against the left of his ribs for support.

"Sir? Are you alright?"

He conquered with all his might against the blackness, trying in vain to lift his head to see his bystander. It was a girl's voice, definitely. If he passed out she could be in danger. He had galloped out of there as fast as he could – he thought he had lost them or they had left him for dead, but they may have followed him.

"Sir?"

He couldn't help it. He felt himself slip unwillingly downwards to the girl, his entire chest cavity pulsating with agony – it was a wonder he wasn't screaming blue murder.

"Oh sir!" Rosaline gasped, only just about catching the man as he fell towards her limply off of his mount. She pulled him entirely off of the horse who merely 'neighed' in the events of his rider, nearly attempting to wander off but Rosaline was quick to stop him, reasoning she'd need him to take this man back to her house to give him aid.

Jacquetta would be mad, she knew, but she couldn't let this man just lay here and bleed to death – she wasn't that kind of person. Her heart was too soft to just wander on by.

She didn't know how she managed it, but within five minutes she was mounted on the horse, the mysterious injured man unconscious and lying back in her arms. She was aware he was close to dying – she could only hope she could get him back to her house in time.

She turned the horse back they way she had come, somehow forgetting about the need for money in concern for this man's life.

* * *

**A/N: **Like I said...don't know what came over me... 


	2. John The Cowboy

**A/N: **Took me a while - but I'm finally here! A thousand apologies. I need to sort myself out a bit :P

**Knocked into a cocked hat - **fouled up, rendered useless.  
**Dragged out - **fatigued, worn out.  
**Big bugs - **important person, official, boss. (In this case, the Bankers)

* * *

Chapter 2 – John The Cowboy

He was very much a handsome man, Rosaline had determined. Even laying there in that bed unconscious – as he had been for a good few hours now – the strength of one thousand men shone brightly from his face.

Rosaline was no nurse but even she could tell the chest wound had been serious enough to kill, but even without antibiotics or whatever fancy medicine they had now he'd managed to get stronger and more levelled in his breathing. He was handsome, strong-willed. She was starting to fall in love with him even though he hadn't uttered her a single word.

Or seen her in return.

She sat next to him now, making sure the bleeding was kept from pouring as he rested. With every breath he took Rosaline could tell he was in discomfort, the little squeaks of slight pain that managed to filter their way through.

Jacquetta hadn't been all too keen on offering him asylum but then again, she'd never been keen on taking pity on men since Rosaline's dadda had died. She did have a reason to turn away his presence, namely, the fact Rosaline had refused to go out for money over this man's comfort.

It was high noon before the man had finally stirred from unconsciousness, no less than six hours since he'd passed out. Rosaline quickly gathered up her skirts and bolted over to his bedside, taking his hand in order to soothe him reassuringly to consciousness. She was aware Jacquetta was watching them both from behind her.

"Howdy sir," she whispered gently as he groaned slightly, two beautiful brown eyes flickering open for the first time since she met him, staring groggily up at the ceiling. He took a sharp intake of air in as the pain in his chest hit him, a hand instantly flying up to his wound as he bolted upright into position, wracked by a heavy and painful sounding cough.

Rosaline gripped his hand tighter in the moment.

"Breathe in, breathe out. C'mon. That's it. Calm down sir."

His free arm was across his mouth now, shielding his chesty cough. Rosaline's eyes widened as she saw splats of red on his arm – he was coughing up blood.

"Breathe in, and out. In, out."

He finally stopped coughing, lowering himself back down onto the pillows and instead staring straight up at her, obviously confused.

"Who…who are you ma'am?"

She smiled back down at him, gently.

"My name's Rosaline Tyler sir, and this here's my momma, Jacquetta." She gestured vaguely behind her.

The man blinked slightly, trying to gain focus as he grunted slightly, pulling himself up more – obviously trying to get out of the bed. Rosaline's hand quickly flew out to support him with her eyes mounting concern.

"Sir, you've been knocked into a cocked hat. Don't do anythin' silly, now."

"No, no ma'am, you don't understand," he said, clutching at his wound and trying to fight against her grip. "You're in danger!"

"Sir, please relax! Ain't nobody gonna hurt you here."

"Miss Tyler ma'am, I don't want you gettin' hurt on account of me."

"Don't nobody know your here sir," Rosaline moved her hand from pressing against his shoulders to his right hand, resting it on top. "Your horse is safe and I wasn't followed…and please, call me Rosaline."

John paused for a moment, brushing a hand back through his wild brown hair anxiously, making it all stand on end. He looked up at her.

"I'm John," he offered, finally submitting and leaning back against the headboard, far too tired to put up a fight. "John Smith."

"Well you get some shut eye John, you looked pretty dragged out."

He gave her a warm smile through his pain; letting himself slide back down under the sheets as his wound threw him free pain in the bucket loads.

"Thank you, Rosaline," he whispered, slipping away quietly.

He didn't even snore, Rosaline noted as she stood up from beside the bed, turning to see her mother for the first time since John had awoken. She was staring hard at her only daughter.

"He can't stay Rosaline. We don't got no money and the big bugs'll be here in two days. We can't look after no injured cowboy."

"I said momma, I'll find a way of gettin' us the money. John ain't got no part in this, this is nothin' to do with him. I know you have no kind heart for men, but John needs our help."

There was a brief pause as Jacquetta took in what her daughter said, shrugging slightly as she turned and walked away, back towards the stove.

"He's your responsibility Rosaline," she warned. "He ain't got nothin' to do with me."

* * *

"John. John."

Rosaline shook the sleeping man as gently as she could, watching his eyes beneath their lids as he came back to the land of reality, helped by the scent of the bowl of stew she held in her right hand.

"That looks just grand Rosaline," he murmured as he pulled himself up to sitting position, trying in vain to ignore the pain shooting through his chest.

"S'all for you John." She held out the bowl to him, resting it in his lap for him to eat.

"Thank you Rosaline, you're mighty kind," he said as he reached for the spoon, digging it in to the luscious looking food and slipping it into his mouth – politely, in the presence of Rosaline. She obviously noticed this and smiled back a beautiful smile.

"S'ok, you don't hafta be polite, John."

He thanked her with his eyes, and within practically seconds the entirety of the bowl had disappeared, much to the annoyance of Jacquetta still hovering in the room. John instantly looked up at Jacquetta, expression apologetic.

"I'm sorry to be a bother, ma'am," he said. Rosaline instantly tutted.

"You shouldn't be apologisin' to her John. You ain't got nothin' to be sorry 'bout."

"I'm in your way, Rosaline," he insisted, making to get up, get dressed, get Arthur and skedaddle pronto.

"John!" the girl sounded alarmed, resting a warm hand on his shoulder and pushing him back down under the covers. "You ain't in no one's way so you just get some rest now. You're gonna feel better in the mornin'."

"You're sure ma'am?"

"Sure John. Relax."

For once, John Smith obeyed orders - and allowed himself to dream once more.


	3. Far, Far Away

**A/N: **I think next chapter's the last one.

**Make a mash** - make a hit, impress someone.  
**Hard case **- worthless person, bad man.  
**Like a thoroughbred **- like a gentleman.  
**Fine as cream gravy - **very good, top notch.  
**Grand - **beautiful.  
**Bosh **- stupid.

* * *

Chapter 3 – Far, Far Away

Over the next day John rapidly began to get better.

He was walking by lunchtime, astounding Rosaline more than anything with the injury hidden beneath reels of bandages under his shirt, the shirt since washed by her momma free of the blood. By the time the town clock struck six o'clock the matter of money was completely out of Rosaline's mind as the three sat around the dinner table, John keeping her laughing.

However, it wasn't out of Jacquetta's mind. She knew they'd arrive tomorrow morning and they still couldn't pay the full $700. They'd be out on the street in twenty-four hours, no exceptions.

It struck 9:00pm and John helpfully offered to clear up the dinner for them. Jacquetta and Rosaline disappeared out the back door to talk in private, but John could still here them quite clearly through the thin wooden wall. He tried in vain to ignore their conversation but it was unavoidable, and the problem Jacquetta had with him became undoubtedly crystal clear.

"Rosaline darlin', they'll be here tomorrow for the cash and we ain't got enough! You've spent all your time motherin' John we haven't saved up!"

"Mum don't bring John into this…"

"Sweetheart he's made a mash on you but he's a hard case."

Rosaline's voice suddenly sounded high-pitched, defensive.

"No, he's not! He's like a thoroughbred! I know you don't like men folk but you've just got a chip on your shoulder. John ain't done nothin' wrong."

"That's as well as maybe Rosaline but we'll be homeless tomorrow if we don't get the dinero."

"We can reason with 'em momma, say we'll give em the other two hundred by next week."

"They ain't gonna submit to that Rosaline…"

They were in debt, John realised, finishing up the washing up and turning to lean against the sink, blocking their conversation out as best he could. So, it _was _his fault. Rosaline was protecting him but Jacquetta was right. If he hadn't walked into their life she'd have probably got that money by now.

The back door opened, and Jacquetta stepped inside, shutting the door quietly behind her. She looked up at John, but only communicated with a nod of greeting before disappearing into her bedroom.

The solution to the problem was forming in his mind now, his clever mind reaching a solution before picking up his coat and shrugging it on. He slipped as quietly as he could out of the back door to where Rosaline was still residing.

* * *

"Rosaline?"

Rosaline opened her eyes at the sound of the man's voice, looking up from where she laid on the grass to the face above, grinning down at her.

"Howdy," she greeted, eyes tearing away from his face to the night sky above. "Y'feelin' better?"

"Fine as cream gravy, ma'am," he replied, taking off his hat and holding it to his chest – ruffling his hair up. There was a slight pause. He was waiting for permission, Rosaline realised.

She laughed at the politeness.

"Oh John, have you a seat," she said, patting the grass next to her before folding his arms behind her head. With a grateful nod he lowered himself down to lying position next to her, staring up into the dark depths of the night sky.

For a moment, there was just silence as they both stared up, enchanted by the bright specks of white stars.

"Grand night, ain't it?" she said, though it wasn't really a question. John looked left at her, taking in her dreamy expression on her pretty face.

"D'you always come out here?" he asked, looking back out at the stars, his arms folding behind his head like her.

"Yeah. I can lay here for lifetimes, just staring at the stars. It's real bosh, so stupid, but I sometimes wish I…" she paused, cutting off her sentence. "Oh never mind. Don't wanna bore a handsome man such as yourself."

"No Rosaline," he said softly, reaching out a hand and resting it on hers. She shivered a spark of electric as he touched her skin. "Tell me."

She half smiled. "I wanna get out this burg, this town…head out over the plains and never stop. I wanna reach the edge of the world and just stand there, touchin' a star. I wanna see danger, I wanna see action. I wanna be a wanderer, walkin' in the dust. Dumb, ain't it?"

He was laughing, though it was not at her. "Not dumb at all Rosaline, s'why I left."

"Where'd you come from?"

He breathed out through gritted teeth. "Far away. So far away."

"Y'mean like, California?"

He smiled to himself. "A little further than that."

Her jaw dropped. "Oklahoma?"

"Further."

Her jaw dropped further, turning her head to stare at him. "Not…England?"

He laughed again. Oh, that was a gorgeous laugh. "Further."

"Don't know much further," she admitted, wondering if that made her slightly thick in the eyes of such a knowledged man. "Sorry."

"Don't be," he said, turning to face her, propping up on his elbow, other hand resting on his chest. The way the moonlight illuminated her face, the way it placed a sparkle in her deep brown eyes, the way her hair glowed; it was enchanting to John. She was so pretty…

Rosaline stared into John's brown orbs, soft looking lips and thin, chiselled, handsome face. His fluffy brown hair stuck up at erratic angles, making him look messily adorable. He was so handsome…

John suddenly snapped, as if resting his eyes on her was some sort of illegal action as he twisted his head, breaking the eye contact and staring up at the stars once more. He was reluctant, Rosaline could tell – whether it was her momma or just his general approach was just a guess, though her momma was bound to have a part in it somewhere.

She noticed he was still holding her hand, so she tightened her grip on it a little, but not enough to startle him. He responded with a quick squeeze, allowing a few more seconds of inaction before suddenly letting go and getting onto his feet with minimal pain.

"Bed," he said shortly, and Rosaline was inclined to agree.

Tomorrow after all, was a new day.


	4. The Message

**A/N: **DADAAAAAAAAAAAA!!! Finally! (Rolls eyes)

* * *

Chapter 4 – The Message

The next morning Rosaline awoke to the sound of a loud drumming on the door.

She yawned; eyes bleary and consciousness low as she struggled out of bed, almost tripping over her own shoes as she stumbled to the door. She pulled it open, and was instantly confronted by two sheriffs, one holding up a poster for her to read.

"We're sorry to bother you ma'am, but we have reason to believe this man might be dwellin' on these premises."

Rosaline blinked back the blurriness, focusing on the poster.

**WANTED**

**John "The Doctor" Smith**

**dead or alive**

**Reward: $100000**

And there was a picture of him, sketched of course. She blinked, startled by the sight.

"Sorry sirs, you got the wrong house," Rosaline tried, but they remained stationary.

"May we come in, ma'am?" one said, taking off his hat as he pushed gently past her, not waiting for a reply. Rosaline's breath caught in her throat. He…he was an outlaw? He hadn't seemed like an outlaw. He couldn't _possibly _be an outlaw…

They were moving in John's direction.

"No sirs, you don't wanna be goin' there!" she said instantly and jogged over to infront of them, blocking them from John's direction. "Lady's Room."

"Ma'am, we be obliged to check every room of the house," he answered simply, moving over to the door and wrenching it open before she could stop them. She held her breath, expecting a burst of gunfire or yelling between two men – but it was silent. She moved slightly over to the doorway, peering in.

It was empty.

They checked the rest of the house, but of course found nothing. Rosaline was actually smiling as they walked out of the front door with their tails between their legs, almost embarrassed. Quietly she closed the door behind them, turning to meet Jacquetta standing right behind her.

"I believe this is for you," she said, holding up a fat-looking white envelope with the word 'Rosaline' printed neatly on the front. Frowning, Rosaline took it and sliced the flap open with her nail, taking out a folded piece of paper encasing a fat wad of something. Abandoning the envelope she opened the letter, staring in disbelief at the cash staring right back at her.

_**Dear Rosaline,**_

_**First of all I'd like to thank you for your hospitality, I would've certainly died if you didn't take me in. By the time you've read this letter I will be long gone, and the Sheriff will probably be looking around the town for me.**_

_**I want you to know, whatever they say that I am not a criminal. Well, maybe I am a little but they took the money unfairly, and I gave it back to the people who were conned. **_

_**I'm sorry for barging in on you and your mother at such a time that I did. Had I known I would've left straight away. Since it's my fault, I am going to amend my mistake. I've left $1000 in $20 notes, this should be enough to pay back your debt and keep your household without money trouble for a while.**_

_**As you can probably tell from the way this letter is written, I am not from Texas and I don't speak like a Texan. If I told you where I was really from you would not believe me, but I'm going to tell you anyway.**_

_**I am an alien: a Time Lord. I am from the sky, the stars themselves. I was born on a different planet and I am not human. I own a time travelling machine, and I travel time and space making sure bad people don't get away with their actions.**_

_**Maybe one day I'll see you again, and together we can touch a star.**_

_**Yours,**_

_**The Doctor (John Smith)**_

* * *

That night Rosaline slept soundly. The debt was paid off and the Sheriff had not bothered them further, so Jacquetta and Rosaline had gone to buy some posh clothes with some of the money. Jacquetta's opinion of John (or was it the Doctor…?) was still a little shaky, but the money seemed to have got her more into John's (the Doctor's) good side. 

She slept through the gentle rattling of her window, and the sound of a high frequency buzzing sound magically undoing the lock. She completely missed the pad of stealthy feet on the wooden floor, making their way across the room to her bed.

"Rosaline…Rosaline…"

She turned over in her sleep slightly, yawning. Bleary eyes opened to meet a strange man standing over her feet – she almost screamed but a hand gently clamped onto her mouth as John's angular handsome face caught the moonlight through the window, and she smiled at the sight.

"Hello," he whispered with a grin, taking his hand off of her mouth.

"You coulda just knocked," she pointed out in a whisper, pushing herself up onto her elbows. "What're you wearin'?"

John looked down at his brown pinstripe suit with burgundy converses, covered with an overcoat.

"The height of fashion," he replied in a boasting voice, arms folded. "I happen to have a very good dress sense."

She laughed quietly. "So what brings you here pardner?"

"You," he answered, taking a seat freely on her bed covers. "Do you believe what I said?"

She paused, plaguing over the absurd idea of aliens. "I wish I could John, but you ain't shown me no proof."

"I got the proof right here," he said, reaching out and taking her hand, pressing it to the left of his chest cavity where she could feel the rhythmic booms of his heart beneath her palm. He let her feel it for a moment, before moving it to the other side of his chest and to her complete and utter surprise she could feel another heart pumping out a rhythm.

"You…you got two hearts! You're an alien arentcha?"

He nodded. "Everything I said is true – and I want you to come with me."

She blinked. "Wha…what?"

"Time travel with me."

It wasn't exactly a hard decision for Rosaline to make. "Okay."

His grin was about to break his face in two. "Let's touch a star, Rosaline. You and me."

"Me and you," she confirmed with her beautiful smile.

* * *

"Ready?" he asked as they stood by the front door, ready to leave. She nodded, placing the note she'd written for her momma on the table as he took her bag for her. 

"Ready for anythin'," she said as he took her warm hand into his own, and led her out of the orld as she knew it, and straight into the cosmos beyond all possibilities.

**The End**


End file.
